


What Was Convenience, Becomes Something More For Us Along The Way

by Lady_Katana4544



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Femslash, Marriage of Convenience, Politics, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Warden Alistair, Warden Queen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7793185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Katana4544/pseuds/Lady_Katana4544
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a decision is made that cannot be taken back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Was Convenience, Becomes Something More For Us Along The Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AceQueenKing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/gifts).



> This ended up getting split into multiple chapters, but here's the first bit and the next bit I'll try to post soon. Thank you to my editor for making this more readable and showing me the things I was originally missing.
> 
> Glowing Warden eyes: Though it wasn't shown in the actual game, I decided to go with what I saw in both the game trailer(s) and concept art that showed the Grey Warden with glowing eyes.

“Well? Who do you choose, Grey Warden?”

“Give me a few more moments, Arl Eamon. This is not an easy decision.”

Anora watches as the glowing silver-blue eyes of the Grey Warden switch between herself and Maric’s remaining bastard heir, Alistair, while sliding her daggers back into their separate sheaths on her hips. After a moment, she turns away and starts to pace a long line in the floor; it is easy to see the hard decision that rests upon the other woman’s shoulders.

It is truly not a decision that Anora would wish upon anyone.

But time is running out as the Darkspawn forces of the Blight move closer to Denerim, and she doubts the Warden has slept at all since coming to the city.

 _The door of her new rooms opens and the serious grim-faced Warden Cousland, formerly_ Lady Elissa Cousland, _steps inside the room then shuts the door behind her. They take a moment to appraise and stare one another down. She notes how determined and tired the other woman looks, and part of her wonders what horrors she has seen while trying to fight the Blight._

_She also wonders what the other woman sees in her: an enemy or an ally to her cause against the Blight?_

_Though there is a beauty to Warden Cousland. A wild beauty that she has only ever heard about in passing or when she spoke with Cailan: he had been amused many times to hear how Elissa Cousland continually shot her parent’s attempts to pair her off with male suitors. No wonder her parents had been so desperate he had said._

_And her beauty was breathtaking. There is a part of her that wonders what the woman’s smile looks like when there isn’t demands upon demands being made to her: does it outshine the sun without the weight of everything sitting on her shoulders or does it frighten her enemies into submitting to her blade._

_“You wished to see me?”_

_Anora nods twice and gestures towards the sitting couch in front of the fire behind her. “Yes, I did. I think we can help each other. Will you sit with me and hear me out?”_

_The copper-haired woman’s face doesn’t change as she crosses her arms over her chest and stares at her. “Thank you for the offer. But I would prefer to stand, your Majesty. Why did you ask me here?”_

_“As I said, I think that we can help one another to get back to what is best for the country in these troubled days.”_

_Something like interest sparks in her eyes before a mask of seeming indifference wipes it away._

_“Go on.” Cousland says quietly as she looks at her calmly before moving to stand stand nearer to her._

_They spend almost two hours talking together, and it leaves Anora more than a little bit nervous that she can’t figure out what the other woman truly wants to get from their meeting. After a moment or two, Cousland stretches an arm behind her back and holds back on obvious yawn. “Your pardon, Majesty, this talk of ours has left me with much to think about, and I would like to get some rest before the coming Landsmeet.”_

_Anora nods quickly, slightly glad for the excuse to retire as well. “Of course. I understand completely, it is a lot to think about.”_

_Cousland nods slightly, a small smirk appearing in her mouth as she turns to walk towards the door. “Thank you, My Lady.”_

_Anora watches as the woman opens the door, closing it quietly behind her, and she sits on the couch staring into the fire place._

A soft cough drags her attention away from her musings, and she sees Alistair staring at her, one eyebrow––thoughtful more than aggressive, she thinks––before turning his attention to the Warden. She finally comes to a stop in her pacing, her eyes closed in thought before turning to look at them.

“I have come to a decision.” Cousland’s strong voice rings out in the silent hall of the Landsmeet. Anora wonders if she hears relief in the quiet exhale from behind her. Anora frowns when she sees Eamon take a step towards the Warden eagerly like an excited hunting hound catching the scent of prey.

“Well? What have you decided? Tell us!”, Eamon demands like a hunting hound pulling on their leash as it lunges after the scent of fleeing prey and Anora is certain that she hears the threatening malice in his tone.

In her mind, a part of her wonders if the old man thinks he has won this.

“I choose … “

Anora’s heart clenches tightly beneath her ribs as she watches the Warden look at Alistair before Cousland opens her eyes to look at her. Her pulse quickens as they look at each other in silence. Eamon clears his throat loudly and the Warden looks away from her to give the answer that Anora knows the Landsmeet needs to hear.

“Anora will remain the Queen and rule the kingdom as she has always done. There are trying times ahead of us all once the Blight has been dealt with, and she has the experience to lead this country through.”

“But who will rule with her, Warden?” The tone of Eamon’s voice though not malicious sounds like he has some thoughts to share on the matter.

“I will.” The Warden says this calmly while holding Anora’s gaze. The Landsmeet turns into an uproar of many voices––many of the nobility immediately repledging their allegiance to a throne guided by the hand of a Warden. A few other nobles on Eamon’s side, cry out against the decision namely Eamon’s voice is the loudest among them. Eamon stomps over to Warden Cousland attempting to loom over her. “I refuse to accept this decision, Warden. If anyone should rule, I demand that you rethink your decision and choose Alistair as the rightful heir to the kingdom and that you rule at his side.” 

It is clear to Anora and everyone watching that Eamon wishes to see the Warden as a child who has refused to follow the wishes of her parents as he tries to reprimand her before Cousland coolly speaks over him.

Anora watches Cousland calmly stare the man down before she takes a deep breath to fill her lungs with air before she speaks. “Do not speak me like I am an errant child, Arl Eamon. I am a Grey Warden, not your errand girl. The Ferelden throne is secure once more through it’s Queen, and it will remain that way. As a former Templar in training and serving as a Grey Warden, Alistair does not have the experience necessary to rule, and it is clear to me that he would only be your puppet even if he were to rule with Anora or myself at his side. Queen Anora has the experience needed to lead through the times that come after the Blight.”

Eamon’s cheeks burn a vivid scarlet in his rage open for all to see. “Surely your parents-” 

Unable to believe that Eamon would try to play such a cruel card against the Warden, Anora gasps as the Warden’s eyes widen.

The distinctive sound of armor scraping together on her right draws Anora’s attention from the verbal spat to Alistair. She notes how uncomfortable Alistair looks about the entire thing even as he meets her gaze. She opens her mouth to whisper to him, but Alistair shakes his head.

“How dare you, Arl. To think that you can invoke my parents’ memory to bend me to your will … that is rather unscrupulous even for you.” Ever calm in her indignation, Cousland raises an eyebrow at him, and Anora hears Alistair take in a quick breath.“My parents raised my brother and I to be uncompromisingly loyal to both our country and the throne. Queen Anora is the one who holds the throne even now, not the man beside her.”

“But surely your parents wouldn’t want–” In the moment, Eamon reminds Anora of nothing more than a dog refusing to let go of a favorite bone.

A humorless half smile graces Cousland’s face. “Before they died, neither of my parents wanted for me to become a Grey Warden, and yet here I stand before you wearing their uniform. Fighting under their flag.” Like the graceful predator Anora imagines that Cousland must be in the field, she leans towards him with a grin full of teeth. “Face it, Arl Eamon. You have lost your bid for the throne, and there are few who stand with you.” 

Cousland turns her head to look at her, those beautiful silver-blue eyes assessing her. “For now we have a Blight and an Archdemon to deal with.”

Anora nods as her heart hammers behind her breast bone. “Of course, Warden.”

*

Anora stands at the edge of the camp watching from afar as her city go up in flame as the battle for the battle for the known world spills through Denerim’s streets. 

“My Lady, please go back inside the tent. Wait for news there where it is safer.” Someone suggests in her ear that she should go back to her tent and wait there for news instead of watching the battle. She frowns and shakes her head. “No. Not while my city burns under the Archdemon’s fire. Not when the Grey Wardens might fall then not even my tent will be safe.” 

She recalls two of the conversations that had happened in the quiet lull between the end of the Landsmeet and before the Warden had left to deal with the Archdemon’s Darkspawn.

_Anora watches the nobles as they mill about while some are in scattered groups, talking quietly as others laugh loudly. More than a few have come up to her and congratulated her on retaining the throne. She can see that there are one or two angry nobles whispering furiously to Eamon, who are clearly unhappy with how the Landsmeet ended._

_She has had dealings in the past with a few of them and wonders what Eamon could have promised them in order to bring them over to his side._

_“So.”_

_She looks up to find Maric’s son––she’s amazed how alike Alistair and Cailan look in their faces and in her heart she knows that it hurts to look at Alistair when his face looks so much like the face of the dead man that she had loved so much––watching her with serious eyes and a half smile._

_“Yes?”_

_“Just so we’re clear here, even as Maric’s last heir I never wanted to oust you from the throne. I think you are a much better choice as ruler.”_

_Warmth fills her heart at that, and while she does miss Cailan, she has no idea how this new marriage between Cousland and herself will work. Is there influence in her kingdom that Cousland hopes will be useful to the Wardens? If the ruling a kingdom was surely within their line of interests._

_Anora tilts her head with small empathetic smile. “Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t have done too poor a job if I had been ousted from the throne.”_

_Alistair blinks at her then startles her by throwing his head back and cackling hysterically, drawing more than a few curious eyes––including his fellow Wardens––to them as Alistair dries his eyes with two fingers. “Oh please stop, don’t make me laugh. Even if we ruled together, I’m sure that somehow I would have managed to burn something down.”_

_“You sound so sure of that.” A part of her feels confused by this; Alistair is a complete unknown factor to her. Anora had been under the impression that Alistair had been in agreement with Eamon before the Landsmeet. Another part of her wonders how he can sound so sure of anything.... how he can be so calm in the face of Eamon’s rage at his fellow Warden._

_Alistair shrugs, his armor creaking with the movement as his expression grows serious. “I know it. And she knows it too. It is something that we spent many times talking about. That’s why she picked you and why Elissa declared that she would rule with you. Elissa Cousland is a brilliant and loyal woman. You are lucky to have her at your side.”_

_Anora blinks. “You really believe that.”_

_Alistair nods. “I know it. And if she should fall, then I will step up as Maric’s remaining heir to rule the kingdom with you in her name.”_

_“You would do that?”_

_The man smiles slightly at her taken aback tone and nods once. “I would and only if she were to fall in the coming battle. It is something that we have discussed. Ferelden will need to find its stability once more after the Blight is dealt with.” His eyes move to the woman walking towards them. “Now I do believe there is someone you should be speaking to more than me.”_

_Anora looks over to see Warden Cousland and curtsies to her as she tries to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach as the woman bows to her. Their eyes meet and Anora feels that nervous flutter again under Cousland’s calm gaze._

_“Warden Cousland.”_

_“Queen Anora.”_

_Silence falls between them before the female Warden offers her arm to her. “Will you walk with me?”_

_Anora moves to put her hand on the woman’s armoured armor. “I would be honored to.”_

_Together they walk away from the resigned chaos of the Landsmeet, and Anora is pleasantly surprised when they enter the palace gardens. She orders her attendants to give them some privacy and watches as the Warden only marginally relaxes as they are left alone._

_“You really are as beautiful as the rumors have painted you to be.” She hears the Warden say softly._

_Anora meets Cousland’s gaze as she blushes at the offered words and smiles at her in response. “So early with the compliments for your future wife, are you? I would say the same to you, Warden Cousland.”_

_Elissa Cousland smiles softly at her. “Thank you, milady.” Her expression soon turns serious as she contemplates the blue flowers around them. “I assume that Alistair told you.”_

_Anora nods slightly. “He did. Though I wish you had told me of your plans sooner.”_

_Elissa gives her a hard look. “I am sorry about that, Your Majesty. I would have liked to tell you. But there were more than a few ears in that estate listening to our conversation so I could not. I imagine that if I had told you and he found out. Arl Eamon would have found a way to make things worse for us. To no doubt make the Wardens look bad before all and our intentions doubted.”_

_Anora frowns as part of her wonders why Cousland had thought to put herself in Alistair’s place. What made her the better choice of them? “Indeed.”_

_“Do not worry, your Majesty. Our marriage need not be about love, but rather instead of convenience. One must consider what is best in the days to come for the continued security of Ferelden’s kingdom.”_

At the sound of booted feet running towards her, Anora looks up from the maps on the table that had been placed in front of her advisors and herself as as a dirty soldier comes up and salutes.

“What word do you bring, soldier?”

The man grins toothily as he pants for air. “We won, my Lady. The Wardens have won us the day.”


End file.
